


Monsoon

by songs_of_the_moon



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Facials, M/M, Making Out, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs_of_the_moon/pseuds/songs_of_the_moon
Summary: The rains come to Suna, and Gaara finds himself. . . distracted.





	Monsoon

The sky is gray, and the rain comes down in sheets. Lee is grinning, of course, bright-eyed with exertion. His hair is soaked with rain and sweat. A bead of water runs down his jaw, and Gaara doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything he wants more.

 

Gaara means to say something inconsequential, the kind of idle chatter that Lee so enjoys. _How was your training?_ maybe, or, _I was thinking about you._ The second is perhaps not quite as quotidian as the first. Gaara has been thinking about Lee since the rain started, distracted by him even when he wasn’t around.

 

“I had the training field to myself this morning,” Lee says, apparently oblivious to Gaara’s rumination. “It seems like the rain has driven everyone inside. It’s so strange! I would have expected to see more people outside enjoying the weather. It’s such a nice break from the heat!”

 

In response Gaara kisses him fiercely, crowding him against the wall. Lee’s lips are cool and damp and taste of fresh water.

 

Lee pulls Gaara closer, one hand on his waist and the other on his hip. They have spent hours like this before, reveling in each other’s mouths and the simple pleasure of contact, but this time Gaara grabs Lee’s hand and puts it firmly on his ass. Lee hums happily and squeezes.

 

Gaara coaxes Lee’s tongue into his mouth and sucks; Lee makes a shuddery sound deep in his throat, so Gaara does it again. Eventually he breaks off from Lee’s mouth, breathless, trying to gather enough focus to lock the door and close the window.

 

Lee laughs, bright and wonderful. The tendrils of sand wobble alarmingly but stay the course. “You’re amazing,” Lee whispers giddily. Gaara has lost track of how many times Lee has said that, but he never seems to mean it any less.

 

The sand heading for the door completes its objective, but the coil on window-closing duty dissolves halfway through its task, lost to Gaara’s distraction as Lee kneads his ass and kisses him again.

 

“Sometimes I almost think you want someone to walk in on us,” Gaara says, mostly for the way it makes Lee flush even as his pupils dilate.

 

“Of—of course not!”

 

But Gaara can hear how Lee’s breath picked up, can feel Lee’s erection pressed against his thigh. He wants to know more—he wants to know everything Lee wants, because how else can he give it to him? It’s a conversation for another day, though, when the rain isn’t beating against the roof and Gaara hasn’t spent all morning thinking about Lee’s body.

 

As for today. . .

 

“Strip,” Gaara says. He has no patience now for dealing with Lee’s spandex, and watching Lee wiggle out of it is much nicer than fumbling with it himself.

 

Lee naked is a revelation. He is lean and muscular, the tan of his skin broken up by paler scars. Gaara had once spent most of an afternoon trying to catalogue them all, learning them with his lips and teeth and tongue—paying special attention to the ones he himself had left. Now he presses his face to the crook of Lee’s neck, where he smells of sweat, rain, and heat, and takes Lee’s cock in hand. Lee sighs just a little and presses closer, and it’s perfect because _Lee_ is perfect. Gaara strokes him as if to let him know, once, twice. Lee turns his head to nip at Gaara’s ear, and his wet hair drags across Gaara’s temple. Gaara shudders at the cool damp it leaves behind, at Lee’s breath hot on his skin.

 

Earlier, Gaara had had plans. Well, a plan. It had been simple: bend Lee over his desk and fuck him senseless. It’s still a good plan, but with Lee’s cock hot in his hand and the taste of Lee’s sweat on his tongue, improvisation seems like the way to go. Gaara drops to his knees without show or ceremony.

 

Lee is watching him, starry-eyed and intent. “You’re beautiful,” he blurts out, like he can’t bear not to. “Have I told you that yet today?”

 

It was the first thing Lee had said when he woke up, mumbled against Gaara’s cheek. “Yes,” Gaara says. He forestalls any response by placing one hand on Lee’s hip and wrapping the other around the base of his dick. He leans in to lick him slowly from root to tip. Lee lets his head fall back against the wall with a wobbly sigh.

 

Gaara glances up to see that Lee’s flush has spread across his chest. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open. He’s wonderful, and Gaara wants him to know it, but just saying it outright seems somehow inadequate. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he says instead. “Ever since the rain started.”

 

“R-really?”

 

It’s rhetorical; they both know Gaara sees no purpose in lying about such things. “Even in that meeting this morning, all I could think about was you.”

 

Lee’s cock twitches. “You can’t—you can’t just _say_ things like that!”

 

“Why not?” Gaara presses a series of soft fleeting kisses down Lee’s shaft.

 

Lee groans, but he manages to gasp out, “Because it’s embarrassing!”

 

“Not to me,” Gaara says, and then takes Lee’s cock in his mouth. He enjoys this more than he had once thought he would—the stretch of his jaw, the press of Lee’s cock against his tongue, the smell of his sweat, the way he can feel Lee’s every gasp and twitch. He takes in as much as he can and strokes the rest, keeping time with the bob of his head. It’s sloppy, messy with spit and precome.

 

Lee’s breath is coming short and ragged. He leans more of his weight against the wall and moans. Gaara wants to use his free hand to fumble open his own pants and finally get some friction on his dick, but his free hand is no longer free. Lee had taken it in one of his own and laced their fingers together.

 

Lee often wants to hold hands during sex. As with most of Lee’s peculiarities, Gaara is happy to indulge him. He squeezes Lee’s fingers gently, and Lee squeezes back.

 

Gaara pulls off of Lee’s cock to catch his breath, letting his hand take over the work. “Is this what you want people to see?” Gaara asks, stroking Lee’s cock slow and firm. “Me on my knees for you? Hard just from sucking you off?” He drags his thumb over the head.

 

“ _Gaara,_ ” Lee whines. His eyes are screwed shut, chest rising and falling rapidly. His grip on Gaara’s hand tightens.

 

“Show the world what you’ve reduced me to, so desperate to touch you.” Gaara lets his hand speed up. “I want you to come on my face.”

 

Lee whimpers, and does.

 

Gaara blinks, nonplussed. Come drips down his cheek.

 

“Oh,” Lee says, staring down at him. “ _Oh._ ” He slides down the wall in a boneless heap. He reaches out to cradle Gaara’s face in one hand, dragging his thumb through the mess he’d made, entranced. “Um. Sorry.” He sounds the farthest thing from contrite, and Gaara can’t imagine what he’s apologizing for.

 

The kiss Lee pulls him into is not unexpected, but the intensity is. Normally Lee is all but useless immediately after orgasm. He shifts his hand to grip Gaara’s hair instead and finally looses Gaara’s hand from his grasp. His clever, clever fingers make short work of Gaara’s fly, and Gaara groans into Lee’s mouth when his cock is finally exposed to the cool air.

 

Lee’s hand on his dick is more familiar than Gaara’s own, but the first touch still makes him shiver. “I’ve got you,” Lee whispers, working the rhythm he knows Gaara likes.

 

 _You always have me,_ Gaara wants to say, but his mouth is preoccupied with gasping Lee’s name. Lee kisses him again, using his grip on Gaara’s hair to put him exactly where he wants him. Gaara shudders.

 

It’s not long before Gaara comes apart under Lee’s perfect hands, sighing against Lee’s lips as he comes.

 

“I didn’t mean to, um, on your face,” Lee says eventually. He gestures vaguely. “I guess I was—a little worked up.” He grimaces.

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

Lee blushes to the tips of his ears. “That’s—well—um. Good.” He smiles almost shyly.

 

The rain is still pounding against the roof. Soon, they will have to clean up and return to their duties. Now, though, Gaara shifts until he’s leaning against Lee’s chest. Lee laughs and pulls him closer, pressing feather-light kisses to the back of his neck.

 

The rest of the world can wait.


End file.
